“I... yes, ma’am. Starting tomorrow.”
She patted my shoulder, and I tried not to flinch at the unexpected contact. “Pete’s tough on his workers. My nephew worked there after his...trouble. The hard work straightened him right out.” She lowered her voice. “Most folks around here know about Pete’s program. Don’t you worry none.”
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse, knowing everyone would identify me as an ex-con. But her kindness seemed genuine, and I nodded gratefully.
“Thank you.”
After dinner, I walked to the small general store down the street and bought necessities like a toothbrush, razor, deodorant, and a cheap cream-colored cowboy hat to keep the sun off my neck when I started work. I also got a few plain T-shirts that actually fit. The cashier was a handsome guy in his late twenties, but he barely looked at me. And honestly, I was thankful for it.
He was cute, but I’d learned not to act on those impulses in prison. Abstaining was far easier than dealing with the consequences of approaching the wrong guy. I didn’t need the complication, anyway. Men were the reason I ended up in prison in the first place. I wasn’t eager to make that mistake again.
Back in my motel room, I laid out my purchases on the bed beside my prison belongings. The contrast was stark. Store-bought items actually had some color to them, while everything in prison was just gray and plain. I ran my fingers over the new clothes, marveling at how something so simple could feel so significant and so soft.
“Six months,” I said to myself. “Six months and I can start my new life at last.”
And nothing was going to get in the way of that.
Chapter 2
Ryder
He’d been staring at me all night. I could see the hunger in his eyes, and I knew what he wanted… what webothwanted. But I didn’t drive all the way to Bozeman to blow my load in a bar in the first five minutes. I wanted to play the game.
So, I did what I always did. I played hard to get. Every time he looked like he was going to make a move, I started flirting with another guy, usually someone in the college crowd that was closer to my age. When that got boring, I’d make sure to walk past the mysterious stranger at the bar, almost brushing against him. Then when I ordered another drink, I made sure I popped my butt out so that just the top of my jockstrap showed above my jeans. I wanted to give him a taste, to entice him to pursue me. After all, I liked being chased.
Once in a while I’d glance at him, acting like I didn’t see him at all. But I caught enough to know he was my type. He was scruffy, rough-looking, a few years older than me, and probably had more red flags than I could count. I didn’t care about that though. If there was one thing I’d learned, it was that problematic guys always had the best dicks. Nice guys wanted to date and pay for things and take care of me, which I loved. But usually that meant I was going to be disappointed in thebedroom. They were always worried about making sure I had a good time, always checking in.
That’s not what I wanted. I wanted a man who was going to fuck me, for his own pleasure, and leave me in a fucking heap on the bathroom floor. The last thing I needed was a nice guy with feelings. I was far too young and free to let myself get tied down.
I checked my watch. It was getting late, and I’d been playing long enough. I had to be back at the ranch tomorrow morning bright and early for our new batch of convicts. Dad always insisted I was there for some reason. It wasn’t like he’d ever give up enough control to let me lead a team, anyway.
I pushed away from the bar, leaving half my drink behind, and headed for the men’s room at the back. As I walked, I could feel the stranger’s eyes on me, following every step. I didn’t look back. I didn’t need to.
The bathroom was empty when I pushed through the door, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. I chose the stall farthest from the entrance and left the door unlocked. My heart raced as I counted down in my head. Five... four... three...
The bathroom door creaked open. Heavy footsteps crossed the tile floor, slow and deliberate. I pretended to be finishing up, adjusting my jeans as the footsteps stopped outside my stall. When the door pushed open, I didn’t act surprised.
There he was, filling the doorway, his eyes dark with lust. Up close, he was even hotter. His broad shoulders were straining against a worn flannel shirt. He had stubble that would leave marks on my skin, and hands that looked like they knew how to hold someone down.
That was just what I wanted.
We didn’t speak. Words would have ruined it. He stepped inside, locked the stall door behind him, and turned me around in one fluid motion. My hands braced against the wall as he pressed against my back, his breath hot on my neck. Hisrough palms slid around my waist, fingers dipping below my waistband, tugging my jeans down just enough.
I bit my lip to keep from making noise as his calloused hands explored my skin. He wasn’t gentle, and I didn’t want him to be. When he pressed me harder against the wall, I arched my back, offering myself up. I heard the sound of his zipper, the crinkle of a condom wrapper. He was too prepared for this to be his first time.
A grunt was all the warning I got before he pushed inside me. The burn was exquisite, exactly what I’d been craving. He held my hips in a bruising grip as he buried himself to the hilt. I bit my lower lip, savoring the feeling of his cock filling me to the brim. I never even got a chance to properly look at his dick, but I didn’t need to. It wasbig, just like I knew it would be.
Red flag guys delivered every single time.
My own cock strained against my jockstrap as he pulled back and slammed to the hilt over and over again, claiming my tight ass like it belonged to him. I could barely hold back a moan as he worked my ass, his rhythm relentless. He wasn’t interested in my pleasure, only in taking what he wanted. And that turned me on more than anything. Each thrust pushed me against the cold tile wall, the contrast between it and his heat making my skin prickle with goosebumps.
His breathing grew heavier, rougher against my ear. He leaned in closer, his chest pressing against my back as one hand moved from my hip to grip the back of my neck. The pressure there held me in place while his hips snapped forward, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the small stall.
I risked a glance back over my shoulder, catching his expression. His jaw was clenched, eyes half-lidded, and he was focused entirely on the place where our bodies joined. When he caught me looking, his lips curled into something between asnarl and a smirk. He tightened his grip on my neck, turning my head back to face the wall.
Message received. This was a transaction, nothing more.
My cock leaked precum, dampening my jockstrap as it rubbed against the fabric with each thrust. I wanted to reach down and stroke myself, but that would have ruined the dynamic. This wasn’t about me getting off. This was about being used like a dollar store fleshlight.
